The Woman in White
by Dede42
Summary: Twenty-two years ago, the Winchester family lives were turned upside down when Mary was murdered; now John Winchester is missing and it is up to Sam, Dean, and Elizabeth to find him, and stop a mysterious woman in a white dress. And Elizabeth is my OC.
1. Prelude

Supernatural: Pilot

A/N: Well, it's finally happen; I am now starting a _Supernatural_ fanfiction series. Sigh. I partly blame my sister, Stephanie, who insisted that I catch up on the series when I was staying with her during fall break, and I've just finished season 5, and now I just need to watch the few episodes that there are of season 6. Just as a warning, there will be slight spoilers for the other seasons, too.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**PRELUDE: THE BEGINNING OF THE CURSE**

A storm raged outside a house in the middle of a junkyard filled with broken-down vehicles; inside the house, a woman sat at a desk covered with papers, old books, and various other items involving the occult and other religions. The woman's hair was long, wavy, and brown that was just starting to gray; her brown eyes revealed her true age, and also an intensity related to years of experience, hardship, lost, and love.

'_I can do this,'_ she thought, opening a journal with a dark blue leather cover to an empty page, and placed her hand, which had a silver Celtic promise ring that had a diamond embedded in it, and several other rings, on a black/silver pen._ 'I _need_ to do this.'_

She didn't pick up the pen and kept staring at the book page; she jerked slightly when a hand with a slightly darker skin tone, and the owner, a man, whispered into her ear.

"You don't have to do this right now."

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, I need to do this right now, and before it's too late," she stated and looked into his dark eyes. "The truth must be written down for those who survive."

He sadly smiled. "I know," he agreed, and kissed her gently on the lips. "Be strong."

He left her at the desk and she picked up the pen, uncapping it, she put the tip to the paper and began writing.

_To those who find this journal, this is the truth of the events that lead to the current state of our world, and why it's now ending. None of this should have happen, but it was destined to be by the ruling of a higher power, and those who serve it. My name is Elizabeth Deanna Winchester, and this is the true story of both the family legacy and the family curse that continues to this day, and now I, my twin brother Dean, and our little brother Sam, failed to save the world.'_

* * *

22 years ago, November 3, 1983…

It was a quiet night in a neighborhood of Lawrence, Kansas, and in a particular white house, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a white nightgown, walked into a nursery, carrying her 4-year-old son, who had short brown hair and brown eyes, and her 4-year-old daughter, who had medium-length brown hair and brown eyes.

(A/N: In this version, Dean has a twin sister.)

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," said Mary, setting her twin children onto the floor, next to the wooden crib, which had a six-month-old baby boy lying inside it and was happily cooing.

The boy, Dean, peered over the side and waved. "'Night, Sam."

"Good night, Sammy," said the girl, Elizabeth, kissing him on the forehead, and smiled.

"Goodnight, love," Mary said, kissing Sam on the forehead, too, and just then a tall man with black hair and dark eyes walked in; this was John Winchester, who had just gotten off of work at a nearby auto shop.

"Hey, Dean, Liz," he said at the doorway, getting their attention.

"Daddy!" Dáwn and Elizabeth both exclaimed and ran to their father, who quickly picked them up, laughing.

"Hey, buddy," said John, smiling. "So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

"No, Daddy," Dean answered while Elizabeth giggled.

John raised his eyebrows with a look of mock shock and then laughed. "No."

"You got him?" Mary asked, referring to Sam.

"I got him," John assured his wife, entering the room fully and bent over the side of crib, kissing his son on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Sam."

* * *

BEDROOM…

It was nearly midnight and Mary was fast asleep in her bed when she suddenly woke to strange noises that were coming over the baby monitor. "John?" she mumbled groggily as she got out of the bed and left the room.

* * *

SAM'S NURSERY…

Barely awake, Mary entered the nursery and saw a figure in dark clothing standing over Sam's crib, and assumed it was her husband. "John? Is he hungry?" she asked sleepily.

"Shhh," 'John' whispered, raising a finger to his lips.

Mary sighed. "All right." And she left the room, returning to the hallway, where she noticed that the lights were flickering strangely; she stopped by a lamp on the wall and tapped it, frowning and now more awake as a feeling of unease filled her.

* * *

LIVING ROOM…

Sprawled in a chair, John had fallen asleep watching a war movie on the TV; Mary came downstairs, saw him, and realized that the figure in Sam's nursery wasn't her husband. Now fully awake and fearing for the life of her baby boy, she ran back upstairs, yelling for her six-month-old son. "Sam!"

* * *

NURSERY…

MARY ran back in and stopped suddenly at what she was seeing before her fright-filled eyes that was standing between her and her son. "You!"

* * *

LIVING ROOM…

John woke suddenly when he heard Mary screamed; jumping to his feet, he ran upstairs, yelling her name. "Mary! Mary!"

* * *

NURSERY…

"Mary?" John ran in, and the room was quiet; breathing hard, he looked around and saw that Sam was awake in his crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?" he asked as his son whimpered when something wet dripped onto the pillow. Curious, John reached in to touch it, and another drop - of blood - fell on his hand. Terrified, he looked up, and saw Mary plastered to the ceiling, bleeding from the abdomen, and staring open-mouthed at him.

"Mary!" he yelled, and she burst into flames; the fire spreading over the ceiling. Acting quickly, John bundled Sam out of his crib and ran.

* * *

HALLWAY…

John ran into the hallway, just as both Dean and Elizabeth came out of their bedrooms, wondering what was going on, and saw the smoke and flames.

"Daddy!"

"Take your brother and sister outside as fast as you can and don't look back," John ordered, shoving baby Sam into his son's arms. "Now, Dean, go!"

Taking Sam, Dean and Elizabeth both ran downstairs and out the front door. John went back into the nursery and saw that the flames were engulfing the room; desperate he yelled for her again. "Mary! Mary!"

* * *

WINCHESTER HOUSE…

Breathing hard, both Dean and Elizabeth ran outside, still holding Sam, and then stopped, turning to look at the house.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean whispered while his sister clung to his arm, both wondering if they were ever going to see their parents alive again.

Just then John came barreling out of the burning house and scooped up both Dean, who was still holding Sam, and Elizabeth, and carried them all to safety. "I gotcha!"

* * *

Later that night, the fire department soon arrived and they were putting out the flames, and several gawkers were kept back by the police; on the other side of the street, John was sitting on the hood of the Impala, cradling Sam in his arms, and both Dean and Elizabeth were leaning on either side of him.

In just a few hours the Winchester family lives were turned upside-down and _nothing_ would ever be the same for them again.

* * *

'_This was the start of the Winchester family curse, and our father became obessessed with discovering the identity of our mother's killer, learning everything that he could about hunting supernatural beings, dashing any hope of us _ever_ having normal lives ever again.'_

_

* * *

_

A/N: Quite a way to start out a story, huh? Of course I'm writing this while handing out candy to kids in costumes, seeing how its' Halloween and all, at the same time. Yes, I know Halloween is really tomorrow, but here in Happy Valley, we hand out candy the day before when it falls on a Sunday. R&R everyone!

10


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Wow, a lot of people have enjoyed the prelude of my first story and I've gotten one review so far. So, I'm updating two days sooner then I'd planned to at first.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

**

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: AN UNEXPECTED REQUEST**

Stanford University, Present Day…

In an apartment on campus, Jessica Lee Moore, Jess to her friends, and Sam Winchester, now grown up, were getting ready for a Halloween party. Jess was wearing a "sexy nurse" outfit, but when Sam stepped out of the bedroom, he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Sam! Jess said, exasperated planting a hat on top of her long blonde hair. "Get a move on, wouldja? We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago." She paused, staring at what he was wearing, and the reluctance on his face. "Sam! You comin' or what?"

"Do I have to?" Sam asked, not thrilled at the thought of Halloween, and the memories that were always stirred up because of it.

"Yes!" Jess insisted, quite used to Sam's protests, having dated him for two years now. "It'll be fun. And where is your costume?" she added with a hint of disapproval of his clothing.

'_I can't believe that I'm doing this.'_ Sam sighed. "You know how I feel about Halloween."

* * *

BAR…

A short while later, Jess, Sam, and an unnamed friend, wearing a ghoul costume, sat around a small table, drinking shots and celebrating.

"So here's to Sam, and his awesome LSAT victory," Jess announced, now slightly drunk.

Sam laughed, embarrassed. "All right, all right, it's not that big a deal," he pointed out.

"He acts all humble, but he scored a 174," Jess teased.

"Is that good?" the friend asked, his words slurring slightly.

Jess laughed. "Scary good."

"So there you go, you are a first-round draft pick," their friend stated. "You can go to any law school you want! "

"Actually, I got an interview here," Sam confessed. "Monday. If it goes okay I think I've got a shot at a full ride next year."

"Hey! It's gonna go great," Jess assured her boyfriend, smiling.

"It'd better," Sam agreed, finishing off his drink.

"How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?" their friend asked, grinning.

Sam flushed and looked away. "Ah, they don't know," he answered.

"Oh, no, I would be gloating! Why not?" his friend asked, surprised.

Sam sighed, thinking of his family and what they did for a living. "Because we're not exactly the Brady's," he explained.

"And I'm not exactly the Huxtables," their friend stated. "More shots?" he added, standing up and staggered slightly.

Jess and Sam both quickly protested, having had enough. "No. No!" but their friend sauntered up to the bar anyway, leaving them alone.

"You know, seriously. I'm proud of you," Jess said seriously. "And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it."

"What would I do without you?" Sam asked, smiling, shoving away the memories of his family.

"Crash and burn," Jess answered, pulling him in for a kiss.

* * *

SAM'S BEDROOM…

It was well after the party, and also well past midnight; Sam and Jess were asleep in their bed. A noise came from another room, like someone tripping, and Sam woke up, suddenly alert. Getting out of the bed, he creeped out of the bedroom, being careful not to wake his girlfriend.

* * *

HALLWAY…

Moving like a ninja, Sam stalked the intruder and attacked once he was close enough; they fought, blocking and ducking each other's strikes. Until finally Sam was pinned to the ground and he could finally see the intruder's face, causing his jaw to drop open in shock.

"Whoa, easy, tiger," Dean Winchester, also fully grown, teased, grinning.

"Dean?" Sam gasped, startled by the sight of his big brother. "You scared the crap out of me!"

Dean chuckled. "That's 'cause you're out of practice," he added, when suddenly Sam lashed out, flipping them over so he was pinning Dean down instead. "Or not," he grunted. "Get off me."

Sam got up and helped his brother up. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, exasperated.

"I was looking for a beer," Dean answered, avoiding the question.

"What. The hell. Are you doing here?" Sam repeated, not believing his brother for a second.

"Dean," said an exasperated female voice, "tell Sam the truth." And Elizabeth Winchester, fully grown, stepped into the hallway.

Sam blinked. "Hey, Liz."

Liz smiled. "Hey, Sam."

Dean sighed. "Okay. All right. We gotta talk," he confessed, now serious.

"Uh, the phone?" Sam suggested.

Now Dean was looking exasperated. "If I'd' a called, would you have picked up?" he asked, and Sam was suddenly sheepish.

Just then, the light flicked on to reveal Jess, who was bleary with sleep, and was wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurf's shirt.

"Sam?" she asked, spotting the two intruders.

"Jess, hey," Sam said quickly. "Dean, Liz, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

Jess stared at them for a moment and then it clicked in her sleepy brain. "Wait, your brother Dean and your sister Elizabeth?"

"Oh, I love the Smurfs," Dean exclaimed, going into full flirt mode. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league," he added, wincing when Liz slapped him up the side of the head.

"Knock it off, Dean," Liz scolded. "Hi, nice to meet you, Jess."

"Nice to meet you both, too," Jess agreed, and turned to go. "Just let me put something on," she added.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it," Dean protested. "Seriously. Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you," he added pleasantly.

"No," said Sam, going over to Jess and put an arm around her shoulders as she watched him sideways. "No, whatever you and Liz want to say, you both can say it in front of her," he added pointedly.

Dean and Liz exchanged looks, sensing the sudden awkwardness of the situation, and then Dean spoke.

"Okay. Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days," he explained, sort of.

Sam shrugged, not seeing anything strange about that. "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift, he'll stumble back in sooner or later."

"Dad's on a hunting trip," Dean said significantly to get his hint across. "And he hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam froze briefly and his expression became more serious. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside," he requested.

* * *

STAIRWELL…

Sam, having pulled on a brown hoodie, Liz, and Dean were now heading downstairs to go outside.

"I mean, come on," Sam protested. "You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you guys."

"I told Dean that it was a bad idea," Liz pointed out, exasperated. "But, as always, he wouldn't listen to me."

"You're not hearing me, Sammy," Dean said, ignoring both siblings protests. "Dad's missing. We need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst?" Sam asked, frustrated. "Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"I'm with Sam on this one," Liz agreed. "Dad's fine and you're just over reacting, so please let's drop it."

Dean sighed, hating when Sam and Liz double-teamed on him, but he was determined to get his way. "Not for this long," he stated. "Now are you gonna come with us or not?"

Sam stopped walking by this point. "I'm not."

Dean also stopped walking, as did Liz, who could already tell what was going to happen, and faced their little brother, who was now taller than both of them. "Why not?" he asked.

"I swore I was done hunting," Sam answered honestly. "For good."

Dean didn't believe it and started walking again. "Come on," he joked. "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"Speak for yourself," Liz grumbled. "That poltergeist in Amherst almost throttled me."

Sam could easily agree with that. "Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45," he pointed out.

"Well, what was he supposed to do?" Dean asked, not getting at what Sam was hinting at.

"I was nine years old!" Sam snapped. "He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"'Don't be afraid of the dark?'" Dean repeated with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark, you know what's out there. We all do."

"Yeah, I know, but still," Sam mumbled, sighing. "The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her. But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean added.

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asked.

"No," Liz agreed.

Dean rolled his eyes, having had enough, and went out the door, and both Sam and Liz followed.

* * *

PARKING LOT…

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets?" Sam continued, now on a roll. "Man, Dean, Liz, we were raised like warriors," he added as they crossed the parking lot to the Impala.

"So what are you gonna do?" Dean asked. "You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal. Safe," Sam corrected.

"Sounds nice," said Liz wistfully.

Dean glared at his twin and then returned his attention to Sam. "And that's why you ran away," he stated.

'_Oh great, _now_ they're going to fight,'_ Liz thought, stifling a groan.

"I was just going to college," Sam snapped. "It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Oh, please tell me that you two _aren't_ going to fight again," Liz begged. "Because I'll lock you both up in a room to fight it out if you do," she added.

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now," said Dean angrily, ignoring Liz's promise. "If he's not dead already, I can feel it. Liz and I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can," Sam retorted.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to," Dean protested.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked, uncertain.

Nodding, Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, which was full of weapons, papers, and other clutter; he pulled up a shotgun and used it to brace the trunk open, and dug through the clutter. "All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

Liz sighed. "Dean, this is why _I_ should do the packing, I mean, you'd misplace your head if it wasn't attached to your neck."

"Would not."

"Would too."

"So when Dad left, why didn't you both go with him?" Sam asked, interrupting a possible fight between his older twin siblings.

"We were working our own gig," Dean answered. "This uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

Sam was surprised. "Dad let you both go on a hunting trip by yourself?" he asked.

"We're twenty six, dude," said Dean, pulling out several papers. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy, they found his car, but he vanished. Completely M.I.A."

"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam suggested.

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years, all men, all the same five-mile stretch of road," Dean explained. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He then pulled out a small tape recorder. "Then we get this voicemail yesterday."

He pressed the "play" button, and on the recording was that of their father's voice, and it was broken up, full of static.

_`"Dean, Liz…something big is starting to happen…I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may…be very careful, Dean, Liz. We're all in danger."`_

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked, recognizing the noise on the recording.

"Not bad, Sammy," Dean remarked, bemused. "Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it? All right. I slowed the message down, Liz ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what we got." He pressed the "play" button again., and they could hear an eerie woman's voice whispering slowly.

_`"I can never go home…"`_

"Never go home," Sam repeated, not liking the sound of that.

Dean nodded and shut the trunk, leaning on it. "You know, in almost two years we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," he pointed out.

Sam sighed, realizing he was beat. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him," he agreed. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked, curious.

"I have this…I have an interview," Sam answered reluctantly.

"What, a job interview?" Dean asked, surprised. "Skip it."

"Dean," Liz hissed. "Wow, that's great, Sam."

"Thanks, Liz," said Sam gratefully. "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean repeated, surprised and confused.

"Nothing's wrong," said Liz brightly.

Sam fixed his eyes on Dean. "So we got a deal, or not?" he asked.

* * *

THE APARTMENT…

A short while later, Sam was now packing a duffel bag; he pulled out a large hook-shaped knife and slid it inside. Jess was hovering nearby, confused.

"Wait, you're taking off?" she asked, confused. "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

Sam nodded and kept packing. "Yeah. You know, just a little family drama."

"Your brother and sister both said he was on some kind of hunting trip," said Jess, still confused.

"Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and Jose along with him," said Sam, stammering an explanation. "I'm just going to go bring him back."

"What about the interview?" Jess demanded.

"I'll make the interview," Sam promised, turning to face her. "This is only for a couple days."

"Sam, I mean, please," Jess pleaded, feeling overwhelmed. "Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?"

Sam nodded. "I'm fine."

"It's just…you won't even talk about your family," Jess said, frustrated. "And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal," she added.

"Hey. Everything's going to be okay," Sam assured her, picking up his bag, and putting on his jacket. "I will be back in time, I promise." He kissed her on the cheek and left.

Confused and frustrated, Jess shouted after him. "At least tell me where you're going!"

* * *

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY, JERICHO, CA…

A young man, Troy, was driving down the highway, and talking on his cell phone. "Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why." He listened to the response and sighed. "Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad's gonna have my ass." He heard a high-pitched whine that made him winced, looked out a nearby window, and saw a woman in a white dress on the side of the road. She was dancing vaguely, and appeared to be drugged. "Hey, Amy, let me call you back?"

The car radio flickered and buzzed as he pulled the car over. "Car trouble or something?" he asked, rolling the window down.

"Take me home?" the woman asked as she stopped her dancing and looked directly at him with dark eyes.

"Sure, get in," said Troy, opening the door, and she did. "So, where do you live?" he asked.

"At the end of Breckenridge Road," the woman answered.

"You coming from a Halloween party or something?" Troy asked and nervously laughed. "You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here," he added.

She looked at him mournfully and, seductively, pulled her skirt up over her thigh. "I'm with you," she said softly, touching his face with her pale hand. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Troy nodded, his face flushing. "Uh…huh."

"Will you come home with me?" the woman asked sweetly.

Troy nodded again, eagerly. "Um.. Hell yeah." And he drove off, excited.

* * *

HOUSE…

A while later, they pulled up to an old abandoned house at the end of a road, and she stared at it sadly.

"Come on. You don't live here," Troy joked.

"I can never go home," the woman said both sadly and fearfully.

"What are you talking about?" Troy asked, confused. "Nobody even lives here. Where do you live?" He turned, and she was gone; confused, he got out of the car, nervous. "That's good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?" he called out, walking toward the house. "Hello? Hello?"

A bird flew at his face, and he yelled, running back to the car; he got in and started to drive away, frantic.

Breathing hard, he looked in the mirror, and saw the woman sitting in the back seat; he yelled again, startled, and drove straight through a "Bridge Closed" sign.

He stopped about halfway across the bridge when he was attacked by the mysterious woman, causing him to scream in both fear and pain, and blood splattered onto the windows as the screaming finally stopped, ending in a death-rattle.

A/N: Agh! Okay, I just scared myself.

21


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, the Winchesters are on their way, and who knows what they will find.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO: MUSIC DEBATE**

GAS STATION…

"Rambling Man" was being played over the sound system, and the Impala was parked in front of a pump. Sam was sitting in the passenger's side with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes, while Dean and Liz came out of the convenience mart, each carrying junk food in their arms.

"Hey! You want breakfast?" Dean asked as they both shoved the food into the back seat right before Liz got in.

"No, thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam asked, confused. "You two and Dad still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean said off-handedly. "Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked as Dean got in behind the wheel.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Dean answered, thinking hard. "His son Hector and his daughter Shelly. Scored three cards out of the deal."

Liz rolled her eyes. "I _hate_ the name Shelly."

"That sounds about right," Sam agreed and then groaned at the music selection that belonged to their dad, and clearly hadn't been updated in years. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes," Sam stated. "And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he added.

Dean snorted. "Well, house rules, Sammy," he retorted. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." He snatched a tape from Sam's hand and popped it in; soon enough, "Back in Black" by AC/DC was blasting from the speakers, and Liz jumped, conking her head on the ceiling.

"Ow! Some warning please, next time?" she complained, rubbing her head gingerly and glared daggers while Dean chuckled.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam pointed out. "It's Sam, okay?" he suggested.

As a response, Dean turned the music up on the radio. "Sorry, I cant hear you, the music's too loud!"

* * *

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY…

After a couple of hours complaining and arguing, Sam and Liz were able to convince Dean to turn the sound down a bit, just as they drove past a sign: "Jericho 7". Sam was talking on his cell phone, gathering some additional info.

"Thank you," he said, hanging and then turned to Dean and Liz. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something, I guess."

"Well, it means he's probably still alive," said Liz, stifling a yawn.

Dean noticed something in the distance and got their attention. "Check it out."

* * *

SYLVANIA BRIDGE…

There was a crime scene in progress on a bridge ahead of them - police tape around a beat-up car, several police cars, various people in uniform were milling around. On the riverbed below, several more people were conducting a search.

"Let's go," said Dean, interested.

One of the cops yelled down to those on the shoreline of the river. "You guys find anything?"

A man yelled up. "No! Nothing!"

A second cop was peering into the beat-up car. "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean," he complained, clearly frustrated.

"So, this kid Troy," said the first cop. "He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

The second cop nodded, frustrated. "Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?" the first cop asked.

The second cop sighed. "She's putting up Missing posters downtown."

Just then, Dean, Liz, and Sam walked into the crime scene like they belonged there. "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" he asked, interrupting the conversation.

"And who are you?" the first cop asked, surprised and suspicious by their sudden appearance.

Dean flashed the badge that he'd pulled out of his battered brown leather jacket. "Federal Marshals," he answered as Liz did the same.

The first cop was looking skeptical, eying the badges. "You three are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?" he asked.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," said Dáwn in his usual manner, making both Liz and Sam both slightly sigh. "You did have another one just like this, correct?" he asked again.

"Yeah, that's right," the first cop answered, deciding that they were legit. "About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked.

The first cop nodded. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody."

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean asked.

"No. Not so far as we can tell," the cop answered.

Sam nodded. "So what's the theory?" he asked.

"Honestly, we don't know," the cop admitted. "Serial murder, kidnapping ring,"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean said sarcastically, and both Sam and Liz stepped on Dean's foot, hard.

"Thank you for your time. Gentlemen," said Sam while the two cops gave them suspicious looks.

As they walked away, Dean smacked both Liz and Sam on the head.

"Ow!" Sam protested while Liz winced. "What was that for?"

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean asked angrily.

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Sam hissed back.

"Yeah, you were making _them_ suspicious," Liz added, kicking her twin in his ankle.

"Come on," Dean grunted, partly in pain. "They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Sam cleared his throat as a grim-looking sheriff and two men in FBI jackets walked up behind them.

"Can I help you boys?" the sheriff asked, eying the trio suspiciously.

"No, sir, we were just leaving," Dean answered cheerfully. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully," he added under his breath once they were out of earshot.

* * *

DOWNTOWN JERICHO…

After parking the Impala, Dean, Liz, and Sam walked past a movie theater, The Marquee, which had on its sign:

EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING

SUNDAY 8PM

BE SAFE OUT THERE

A teenage girl was tacking up posters showing Troy's face.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean hinted to Sam and Liz.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Looks like it," Liz agreed as they walked up to the sad-looking girl.

"You must be Amy," said Dean.

Amy nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, Troy told us about you," Dean added. "We're his uncles and aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and Liz."

Amy was skeptical. "He never mentioned you to me."

"Well, that's Troy, I guess," Dean joked. "We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam added.

Just then, a Goth girl approached, and put a hand gently on Amy's arm. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked kindly.

Amy nodded. "Yeah."

"Mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Sam asked politely.

* * *

DINER…

Soon, the four of them were sitting in a booth, Dean, Liz, and Sam were sitting opposite the two girls.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy explained. "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and uh, he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

Amy shook her head. "No. Nothing I can remember," she confessed.

Sam noted the pentagram that Amy was wearing and nodded at it. "I like your necklace."

Amy smiled shyly and touched it. "Troy gave it to me," she said. "Mostly to scare my parents. With all that devil stuff."

"Actually, it means just the opposite," Sam said. "A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing," he added when he earned several odd looks.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries," said Dean, trying to clear up the awkward situation. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, some thing's not right. So if you've heard anything." And raised his eyebrows when the two girls shared a look. "What is it?" he asked.

"Well, it's just…I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," the gothic girl said slowly and reluctantly.

"What do they talk about?" Dean, Liz, and Sam all asked in unison.

"It's kind of this local legend," the Gothic girl answered. "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

* * *

LIBRARY…

After getting more details from the two girls, Sam, Liz, and Dean were now at the library; sitting at a computer, Dean typed into a search screen "Female Murder Hitchhiking", and found no results. He tried "Female Murder Centennial Highway" and still got nothing.

"Let me try," Sam said, reaching for the keyboard.

"I got it," Dean snapped, swatting his brother's hand away; Sam reacted by shoving Dean's chair out of the way and took over. Recovering and rolling back, Dean hit him in the shoulder. "Dude! You're such a control freak," he complained.

"We're in a library, you two," Liz hissed, squeezing between them to stop a possible fight. "Zip it!"

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asked, typing away now.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Like in _"The Grudge"_," Liz inputted. "Which I'm _never_ seeing again," she added to Dean, who just grinned.

"Well, maybe it's not murder," Sam suggested, typing into the search function "Female Suicide Centennial Highway" and found an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". He opened it and hit pay dirt. "This was 1981. Constance Welsh, twenty-four years, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," he read a loud for their benefit.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean and Liz both asked.

Sam nodded, scanning the rest of the article, and frowned. "Yeah."

"What?" Dean and Liz both asked.

"An hour before they found her she calls 9-1-1," Sam answered, "apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back they aren't breathing. Both died," he added, still reading. "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it' said husband Joseph Welsh."

Dean noticed something in the picture. "The bridge look familiar to you?"

Liz peered at the picture and sighed. "So much for getting a decent night sleep tonight."

* * *

SYLVANIA BRIDGE…

Dean, Liz, and Sam came back to the bridge, stopping the car near the entrance, and they got out and looked over the edge.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean guessed.

"Long way down," Liz remarked with a shiver.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean answered. "Might take a while."

Sam sighed, not liking the sound of this. "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday," he said, reminding his siblings.

Dean didn't really care. "Monday. Right. The interview."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean asked. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

'_Oh for the love of-'_ Liz thought, almost groaning when she realized that her brothers were about to fight again.

"Maybe," Sam admitted. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" Dean asked. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam shook his head, having made sure that Jess didn't know _anything_ about his past. "No, and she's not ever going to know," he answered.

"Well, that's healthy," Dean scoffed. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

"Aw, jeez," Liz groaned. "Dean, this isn't the time for this."

"And who's that?" Sam asked, ignoring Liz.

"You're one of us," Dean answered.

"No. I'm not like you," Sam snapped. "This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-" Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

"To Dad? And his crusade?" he asked angrily. "If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Dean, who had been fuming during this, finally snapped, grabbed Sam by the collar, and shoved him up against the railing of the bridge. "Don't talk about her like that," he growled.

"Dean, let Sam go right now," Liz ordered, shoving between the two, making Dean release Sam, he glared at Liz, who returned the glare, and then walked away. He stopped, spotting a woman in a white dress standing on the bridge railing. "Sam, Liz."

The woman looked at them sadly, and then dove limply off the bridge; reacting to this, Sam, Liz, and Dean ran to the railing and looked over.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked, confused.

"I don't know," Sam answered.

"I'm guessing we've found our spirit," Liz remarked, since it was impossible for a normal human to disappear into thin air.

Behind them, the headlights of Dean's car turned on and the engine started, getting their attention.

Dean stared, confused. "What the-"

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked slowly.

Not sure of how to answer, Dean slowly pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them, indicating that no one could possible be driving. Suddenly, the car jerk into motion, and headed straight for them.

"Dean? Liz? Go! Go!" Sam shouted, and they started running; they reached the railing of the bridge, and leap over to get away from the possessed car.

* * *

A/N: And I now do a cliffy! BWAHAHAHAHA! R&R everyone!

17


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I know that some people are reluctant to update when they don't get a lot of reviews, but I don't care about something like this; So what if no one reviews, I know that a lot of people have read my story, and so I'll update as often as I can. So, let's see what happens to Sam, Dean, and Liz next now that they've just had an encountered the Woman in White?

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: DEAN CAUSES TROUBLE**

Sam was hanging from the edge of the bridge, having caught the beam with the tips of his fingers. Panting and groaning, he pulled himself up and looked around, realizing that his brother and sister were missing. "Dean? Liz? Dean! Liz!"

Below, a filthy and annoyed Dean crawled out of the water and onto the mud, panting, Liz at his side, and was looking equally filthy and annoyed.

"What?" he asked, looking up at the bridge.

Hearing Dean's voice, Sam ran to the railing and spotted them. "Hey! Are you both all right?" he asked, relieved that they were still live.

Dean and Liz both exchanged an annoyed look. "We're super."

* * *

ON THE BRIDGE…

After climbing back up, Dean shut the trunk of his car and leaned on it.

"Your car all right?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now," Dean confirmed, fuming. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"

"A ghost with issues," Liz sighed. "Dad sure knows how to pick them."

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure," Sam remarked. "So where's the job go from here, genius?" Dean threw up his arms in frustration, flicking mud off his hands, and Sam sniffed. "You both smell like a toilet," he added, grimacing, earning twin glares of doom.

"Not funny, Sam."

* * *

MOTEL LOBBY…

Having calmed down on the drive over, Dean threw down a Mastercard bearing the name "Hector Aframian". "One room, please," he requested.

The clerk, an old and grumpy-looking man, picked up the card and frowned at it. "You guys having a reunion or something?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, exchanging a confused look with Dean and Liz.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian," the clerk explained. "He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

Both Dean and Liz looked at Sam significantly.

* * *

JOHN'S MOTEL ROOM…

Finding the right room number, Sam picked the lock open and entered. Outside, both Dean and Liz stood watch, until Sam reached back out and grabbed them by the shoulders, and pulled them bodily inside; pulling free of Sam's grips, they looked around the room. The walls were organized madness - completely covered in newspaper clippings, maps, notes, arrows, etc., and the floor was cluttered up, too.

"Whoa," Sam remarked, eyes wide.

Dean turned on a light by the bed and picked up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there, and both Sam and Liz stepped over a line of salt on the floor; Dean sniffed the burger and recoiled.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," he said, grimacing.

Sam knelt down, fingered the salt on the floor, and looked up, noting the other protection items scattered about. "Salt, cats-eye shells…he was worried," he said. "Trying to keep something from coming in."

"So, the question we need to ask, is what was he defending himself from and where has he gotten to?" Liz added, having discovered that all of the windows had salt lines on them, too.

Dean looked at the papers covering one wall, and both Liz and Sam joined him.

"What have you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean answered, gesturing to the newspaper clippings. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

Liz shrugged, it didn't make sense to her either. "Other than the location, nothing."

Sam crossed over to the other wall and looked at the papers taped there - they include old articles and drawings, a post-it reading "Mortis Danse" and a scrap of paper that says "Woman In White" at the far end, and he turned on another lamp. "Dad figured it out," he informed them.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he and Liz joined him at the wall.

"He found the same article we did," Sam explained. "Constance Welch. She's a Woman In White."

Liz grimaced. "Aw, jeeze, and I thought the standard vengeful spirit was bad enough."

"You sly dogs," Dean remarked to the photos on the wall. "All right, so if we're dealing with a Woman In White Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"Problem is, if dad did burn the corpse, then why is Constance Welch still around, and doing the whole Woman in White bit?" Liz wondered.

"She might have another weakness," Sam guessed.

"Well, Dad would want to make sure," said Dean. "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

Sam scanned the papers and shook his head. "No, not that I can tell," he admitted. "If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."

Dean nodded. "All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, me and Liz are gonna get cleaned up," he suggested.

"Hey, Dean? What I said earlier…about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry," Sam apologized.

Dean quickly held up a hand. "No chick-flick moments."

"All right," said Sam. "Jerk," he added, smiling slightly.

"Bitch," Dean responded, grinning.

"Idiots," Liz muttered, and yelped when Dean dragged her toward the bathroom; chuckling at the sounds of mock-battle, Sam saw something, crossed the room, and picked it up. It was a photograph of John, Liz, and the boys, appearing about eight and twelve; Sam held the photo and smiled sadly.

* * *

LATER…

Having showered first, Liz was brushing out her hair and pulling it into a braid while Sam paced and held his phone to his ear, listening to a voicemail message.

_`"Hey, it's me, it's about ten twenty…"`_

Dean came out of the bathroom, all cleaned, and grabbed his jacket. "Hey, man. I'm starving, we're gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street," he said while Liz grabbed her own jacket. "You want anything?"

Sam shook his head, listening to the message. "No, thanks."

"Aframian's buying," Dean added, but Sam shook his head, still listening to the message, and both Dean and Liz left the room.

* * *

PARKING LOT…

They walked over to the Impala, and Dean looked over and saw the two deputies from earlier, a third deputy joining them, talking to the motel clerk. The clerk pointed at Liz and Dean, who turned, cursing, and pulled out his cell phone.

'_Not good,'_ Liz thought, worried.

* * *

INSIDE…

Sam was still listening to the message.

_`"So call me soon, okay? I love you."`_

The phone beeped, Sam looked at it, and pressed a button. "What?"

_`"Dude, five-oh, take off."`_

Sam recognized the code for trouble. "What about you and Liz?" he asked.

"Uh, they kinda spotted us," Dean admitted, noting how Liz was tensing up. "Go find Dad." He quickly hung up the phone as the deputies approached; taking a deep breath, he turned and grinned at them while Liz did her best to look relaxed. "Problem, officers?"

"Where's your partner?" one of the deputies asked.

"Partner? What, what partner?" Dean asked politely while Liz looked confused.

The first deputy jerked his thumb towards the motel room, and the other two deputies headed over there while both Liz and Dean fidgeted nervously.

* * *

INSIDE…

Sam saw the two deputies head toward the door, and he quickly pulled back from the window.

"So. Fake U.S. Marshals. Fake credit cards," the first deputy remarked as the other two checked the room and then came back, obviously finding no one else. "You two got anything that's real?" he asked.

Dean grinned broadly. "My boots." And two seconds later, both he and Liz, who was throwing death glares at her twin, were slammed over the side of the cop car as the first deputy read them their rights.

"You both have the right to remain silent…"

* * *

POLICE STATION…

After being fingerprinted and everything, both Dean and Liz were sitting in a interrogation room, waiting and having a glaring contest, when the door opened, and the Sheriff, who they had seen on the bridge, entered, carrying a box. He set it down on the table and looked inquiring at the twins.

"So you want to give us your real names?" he asked.

"I told you, it's Nugent," Dean answered. "Ted and Molly Nugent."

The Sheriff wasn't amused. "I'm not sure you both realize just how much trouble you're in here," he remarked.

Dean couldn't resist making a wisecrack that would probably get both him and Liz into even more trouble. "We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble, or uh, squeal like a pig trouble?" he asked, and grunted slightly when Liz kicked him in the leg.

"Will you _please_ shut up?" Liz hissed.

The Sheriff barely blinked at the exchange. "You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall," he explained. "Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you and your sister here are both officially suspects," he added.

That didn't faze Dean in the slightest while Liz rolled her eyes skyward in a manner that said "why me?". "That makes sense," he joked. "Because when the first one went missing in '82 we were three."

"I know you've got partners, one of 'em's an older guy," the Sheriff stated. "Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean, Elizabeth. This his?" he added, tossing a brown leather book on the table, and both Dean and Liz stared at it, eyes wide and were wondering how on Earth this guy knew their real names? "I thought that might be your names," he commented, noting their reactions. "See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out–I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy. But I found this, too."

And he opened the journal to a page that read: DEAN AND ELIZABETH 35-111

"Now," the Sheriff continued. "You both are stayin' right here until you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

* * *

WELCH HOUSE…

While Dean and Liz were dealing with the police, Sam knocked on a grimy door, and Joseph Welch opened it.

"Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked politely.

Joseph eyed Sam suspiciously and nodded. "Yeah."

It wasn't long before Sam and Joseph were walking down the driveway, and Joseph was holding the photo of John that Sam had found earlier.

"Yeah, he was older, but that's him," Joseph confirmed. "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

"That's right," Sam agreed. "We're working on a story together."

"Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?" Joseph grumbled.

"About your wife Constance?" Sam asked.

Joseph nodded. "He asked me where she was buried."

Sam nodded, figuring as much. "And, where is that again?" he asked.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" Joseph asked, annoyed.

"It's fact checking," Sam quickly explained. "If you don't mind."

Joseph sighed. "In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?" Sam asked.

"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died," Joseph stated firmly.

Sam nodded, filing away the information in his mind. "Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" he asked.

"No way," Joseph answered. "Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?" Sam asked, wanting to confirm an theory he had.

Joseph hesitated for a moment before answering. "Definitely."

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time," said Sam, and he started to open the car door, paused and looked back. "Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a Woman In White?" he asked suddenly.

"A what?" Joseph asked blankly.

"A Woman In White," Sam repeated. "Or sometimes Weeping Woman? It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women, you understand. But all share the same story."

Joseph was becoming impatient now. "Boy, I don't care much for nonsense," he protested.

"See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them," Sam explained, suspecting that he was on the right track. "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again."

"You think…you think that has something to do with…Constance? You smartass!" Joseph raged, his face going red.

Sam shrugged. "You tell me."

"I mean, maybe…maybe I made some mistakes," Joseph stammered. "But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!" he shouted, storming away back toward his home, his shoulders shaking.

* * *

POLICE STATION…

Dean and Liz were still being interrogated about the journal, which was open to the page reading "Dean and Elizabeth 33-111".

Frustrated, Dean leaned forward onto the table while Liz rubbed her eyes blearily. "I don't know how many times I gotta tell you," he said, annoyed. "It's my high school locker combo."

"We gonna do this all night long?" the sheriff asked, determined to get the truth.

Just then, one of the deputies poked his head in. "We just got a 9-1-1, shots fired over at Whiteford Road," he reported.

The sheriff sighed and glanced at the Winchester twins. "Either of you have to go to the bathroom?" he asked.

Both Dean and Liz shook their heads. "No."

"Good." And the sheriff handcuffed both Liz and Dean to the table and left. After waiting about a minute to be sure that they were alone, Dean grabbed a paper clip that was poking out of the journal, and smiled. Moments later, as the deputies were still heading out the door, he and Liz were free. They ducked out of sight behind the door, and then escaped.

* * *

POLICE STATION…

Dean and Liz both climbed out of a window and down the fire escape, carrying John's journal; reaching a payphone, Liz kept a look out while Dean made a call.

* * *

HIGHWAY…

Sam was driving Dean's car, and answered his phone when it rang. "Hey, Dean."

_`" Fake 9-1-1 phone call?"`_ Dean asked, skeptical while Liz laughed. _`"I don't know, Sammy, that's pretty illegal."`_

_`"It was great!"`_ Liz called out.

"You're welcome," said Sam, grinning.

_`"Listen, we gotta talk,"` _said Dean, turning serious.

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed. "So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Woman In White. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop."

_`"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?"` _Dean requested.

Sam ignored him. "I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," he added, thinking.

_`"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you,"` _Dean snapped. _`"He's gone. Dad left Jericho."`_

"What? How do you know?" Sam asked, surprised that their own dad would leave a job before completely finishing it.

_`"I've got his journal."`_

Sam was surprised. "He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

_`"Yeah, well, he did this time."`_

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

_`"Ah, the same old ex-marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."`_

Sam knew what that meant. "Coordinates. Where to?" he asked.

_`"I'm not sure yet,"` _Dean admitted._ `"Liz's trying to figure it out, but she'll need a map before she can be absolutely certain."`_

"I don't understand," Sam complained, frustrated. "I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, Liz, what the hell is going on?" Just then, he looked up suddenly, dropped the phone when he saw Constance in the road ahead of him and tried to brake; but the car went right through her as he slowed to a stop.

_`"Sam? Sam!"` _Dean shouted over the line.

But Sam couldn't answer, for inside the car, was Constance sitting in the back seat.

"Take me home," she requested sadly.

* * *

A/N: Another cliffy! R&R everyone!

20


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner, but I've been busy with school, but this is the final chapter for this story and it might be a while before I post the next story as I've got finals coming up. So, stick around and I'll get the next story up probably before or after Christmas, depending on what happens with my remaining assignments for schoo.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: THE WOMAN IN WHITE**

_`"__Take me home!"` _Constance ordered angrily.

Sam sat frozen in his seat, but kept his hands away from the steering wheel. "No."

Constance glared and the doors locked themselves; panicking, Sam struggled to reopen them, but he couldn't. The gas pedal pressed down and the car began to drive itself; Sam tried to take control by grabbing the steering wheel, but he couldn't. After a few minutes of driving at a neck-breaking speed, the car pulled up in front of the abandoned house.

"Don't do this," Sam pleaded, scared.

Constance ignored him and stared sadly at the house. _`"I can never go home."`_

Sam stared at the house, and then at the rearview window. "You're scared to go home," he whispered as more puzzle pieces fell into place; he looked back, but she had disappeared, and she suddenly reappeared in the front seat. She climbed into his lap in a very aggressively sexual manner.

_`"Hold me,"`_ Constance whispered. _`"I'm so cold."`_

Sam leaned away, gulping. "You can't kill me," he gasped, wondering where both Dean and Liz were. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!"

_`"You will be,"`_ Constance informed him._ `"Just hold me."` _And she kissed him as he struggled to reach for the keys. She pulled back and disappeared; a moment later Sam yelled in pain as her image flickered in front of him, stabbing her hand into his chest. A gunshot went off and Constance was startled; outside the shattered window Dean and Liz both approached, still firing at her. Acting quickly, Sam managed to sit forward and started the car.

"I'm taking you home," he snarled, and drove the car forward, smashing it through the side of the house.

Both Dean and Liz ran to meet him.

"Sam! Sam! You okay?" he asked, pulling the door open.

Sam groaned, having conked his head on the steering wheel. "I think…"

"Can you move?" Dean asked while Liz kept an eye out for Constance since they weren't out of the woods just yet.

Sam nodded, even though it made his head hurt. "Yeah. Help me?"

As Dean and Liz both helped Sam out of the car, Constance picked up a large framed photograph depicting her and two young children, and she looked at it, distraught. She dropped the photo angrily and backed up; a bureau flew toward Sam, Liz, and Dean, pinning them against the car, causing them all to cry out in pain while loose the guns in the process. The lights flicker, and Constance looked around, scared; water began to pour down the staircase as she went to it. At the top were the boy and girl from the photograph, and they were holding hands.

_`"You've come home to us, Mommy,"` _they said in unison.

Constance stared at them, distraught, and suddenly they were behind her; they embraced her tightly and she screamed, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, she and the two children melted into a puddle in the floor. Grunting, Sam, Liz, and Dean all shoved the bureau over and went over to look at the spot where they vanished.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean remarked, breathing hard.

"And they've been waiting for her all this time," Liz added, clutching her side.

"That's why she could never go home," said Sam, having figured it out. "She was too scared to face them."

Dean chuckled, even though it hurt. "You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy." And he then slapped Sam on the chest where he's been injured; Sam whimpered in pain.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you two," he retorted. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freaks?"

"Ow, that's below the belt much," Liz protested, hurt.

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean pointed out. "I'll tell you another thing, if you screwed up my car, I'll kill you."

* * *

HIGHWAY…

The Impala tore down the road and one headlight was out. Inside, Sam had the journal and a map open on his lap and was finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked under his cheek, and Liz was leaning between the seats to see where their dad had ended up.

"Okay, here's where Dad went," said Sam, finding the location, "it's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?" he asked.

"About six hundred miles," Sam answered, checking the route.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," Dean remarked, chuckling.

Sam looked at him, and hesitated. "Dean, um-"

Dean sighed, remembering his promise after Liz poked him in the shoulder. "You're not going."

"The interview's in like, ten hours," Sam reminded him. "I gotta be there."

Dean nodded, disappointed; having done this job with their little brother had felt like old times…almost. "Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

* * *

SAM'S APARTMENT…

After driving several hours non-stop, they pulled up in front of the apartment, and Dean was still frowning. Sam got out, and leaned over to look through the window.

"Call me if you find him?" he requested, and both Dean and Liz nodded. "And maybe I'll hook up with you later, huh?" he added, hopefully.

"Yeah, all right," Dean agreed as Liz climbed into the front seat, and Sam started to walk away. "Sam? You know, we made a hell of a team back there," he added.

Sam turned back and smiled. "Yeah."

"See you around, Sam," Liz said, already missing him, and Dean drove off while Sam headed inside.

* * *

The house was quiet when he got inside, locking the door behind him. "Jess? You home?" he called out, going into the kitchen.

On the table he spotted a plate of cookies with a note reading "Missed you! Love you!" He picked one up and ate it as he crept into the bedroom, smiling; he sat on the bed, shut his eyes, and flopped onto his back.

Sam was lying there only for a few seconds when several drops of blood landed on his forehead; he flinched and opened his eyes to a sight that made him gasp in horror: Jess was pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him, her face locked in a terrified expression, and she was bleeding from the belly.

"No!" he shouted, terrified, and at that exact moment, Jess burst into flame; the fire spreading across the ceiling; moments later, Dean and Liz both kicked the front door open, having seen the street lights flickering and the radio acting crazy, and realizing something was wrong.

"Sam!" they both shouted.

Sam couldn't hear anything over the roar of the flames as he sat frozen on the bed. "Jess!"

Hearing his shout, Dean and Liz both came running into the bedroom.

"Sam! Sam!"

They looked up and saw Jess, horrified, fully recalling the night their mom had died in the same manner. Acting quickly and pushing back the memories, they grabbed Sam off the bed and bodily shoved him out the door, Sam struggling all the way.

"Jess! Jess! No!" he shouted.

"It's too late, Sam!"

Flames engulfed the apartment as they ran out the front door into the front yard.

* * *

SAM'S APARTMENT…

It was several hours later, and a fire truck was parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers, very much like the night all those years ago. Dean watched for a moment, and then turned and walked back to his car. Both Liz and Sam were standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looked at the trunk, then at Liz, who shook her head sadly, and Sam, whose face was set in a mask of desperate anger. Sam sighed, nodded, and tossed the shotgun into the trunk.

"We got work to do," he said firmly, and shut the trunk.

Unknown to them, a dark figure was watching them from the shadows, pleased with the sight of Sam getting into the Impala with his siblings, and watched them drive off._ 'That's right, Sammy; go with your brother and sister and become a strong hunter. Grow strong, kid, grow strong for me.'

* * *

_

_Sam's dreams of having a normal life died the same night that Jessica Lee Moore died, murdered in the same manner as our mother when we were little; had we known the reason back then, maybe things would have been different for us all, but we didn't know, and would remain in the dark for a very long time. Sam became more like our dad after that night, more angry, and filled with the exact same need for revenge against the dark forces responsible for both deaths.

* * *

_

A/N: Whew! And that's the end of this story; see you all for the next one!

R&R everyone!


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